Trekking
by Lefting
Summary: Two random snippets of different stories following the same basic plot line. UNFINISHED


Two snippets of different stories, but based on the same basic idea and plot line.

**1. Trekking**

**trek** [trek]

vi (present participle trek·king)

**go slowly or laboriously: **to go somewhere slowly or with difficulty

Dr Frances Josephine Pike was the only child and daughter of Admiral Christopher Pike. Her hair was the colour of autumn leaves, she had a wonderful bedside manner and she had a fiery temper that would always lash out when someone questioned her rights. She had spent the majority of her life protected and fussed over, always searching for escape routes and ways out.

Her mother, Josephine Delancey, had fallen pregnant shortly before one of Captain Pike's year long missions and had not taken well to pregnancy. Without enough time to marry before he left and with Josephine too ill to come with him, Pike had to leave his fiancée and unborn child behind. When he returned 12 months later, it was to find Josephine dead and a bawling baby girl demanding attention, love and still without a name.

Captain Pike had spent the next twelve years going on no voyages longer than 3 months and took care of his daughter with help only from his brother and parents. Until, at the age of thirteen, Frances ordered her father to get his ass the hell back into space and go back to doing what he loved best - well, second best after her.

"Daddy, I love you, and I hate seeing how frustrated you get tied to this planet. I'm old enough to look after myself, to make my own decisions."

He had argued vehemently against her on that point, of course, but eventually gave in and said goodbye for fourteen months for his first long-length mission since before Frances' birth. Meanwhile, she had wreaked havoc back on Earth. Finally free of her father's endearing, but suffocating love, Frances had spent the first sixth months of freedom escaping her uncle and grandparents and racing bikes on the dirt tacks that littered the nearby countryside. She wasn't particularly good at it herself, but the sheer thrill of racing was brilliant and Frances had, even then, a knack for healing those who fell off.

When one of the boys had fallen off and broken his leg, and the adults came to realise just how brilliant a doctor Frances had the opportunity of being, the dirt track racing stopped. Frances was taken out of regular school and sent to the International School of Medical Sciences three years early. She had struggled at first, what with having to learn the mechanics of something that was innate to her, living away from family members for the first time, the other students who were all at least three years older than her and also with the advanced education.

Frances was not a genius, she simply had skill when it came to healing people, and as such suddenly having to learn about enzymes and circuitry systems and chromosomes was a long, confusing experience for her. For the next six months she spent the entire time on the brink of being kicked out and sent back to her old school, but by the time her father arrived back home she was well on her way to being top of her class.

Medical School generally took four years to complete and come out with a doctorate, but Frances opted to stay for a further two years, so that she could explore her ability and combine it with known practices in a safe environment. At the end of which, aged nineteen, her father introduced her to Dr Leonard McCoy, who had been aboard the USS Enterprise during it's recent rescue of Earth.

Frances had been wary at first; her attitude was still too carefree and blithe for the taste of the professors at the Medical School and she had to make it clear that her attitude wasn't going to change. Sure, she'd made mistakes, but on the operating table those had always turned out to be happy mistakes that worked out better than the original method. She trusted in her skill to save people. Others didn't.

However, Frances and Dr McCoy got on extremely well and within a week of their meeting, it was arranged that Frances would apprentice under Dr McCoy to get to grips with the workings of a Star Fleet ship and its medical centre. Within two months she was all set to leave on her first deep-space mission that would take her away from Earth - and her father - for 18 months. And yet, despite his overly protective nature, her father seemed almost eager for her to go and experience space for so long without seeing her.

"Don't get me wrong, Cissy, I expect you to call every other day, just like always. I'm going to miss you so much. But Captain Kirk's a good man, the son of an old friend of mine. He and his first officer Spock are just about the darn best team we have. I couldn't wish for a better group of people to be in command of your first mission," he explained, when she asked.

"I'll miss you too, Daddy. And I fully expect you to be standing there, waiting for me when I get home," she replied, hugging him tightly.

"Me, your grandparents, Uncle Tim, we'll all be waiting for you, missing you, just like always. Love you, cupcake."

"Love you too, Daddy," she promised, then kissed him on the cheek and raced aboard the space bus that would take them up to the docking bay.

Looking around for someone - anyone she knew, Frances gave it up as a lost cause and ended up, as always, sitting squidged between two strangers.

"Hey," she greeted both of them, "I'm Frances, but everyone calls my Cissa."

"Nyoto Uhura," the dark skinned lady sat to her left greeted, offering a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too," Frances said with a grin, shaking the hand firmly.

"Pavel Chekov," the teen to her left greeted, overly enthusiastically. "You're Admiral Pike's daughter, aren't you?"

Frances quickly clapped a hand over Chekov's mouth. "Shush! I don't want anyone to know that! I am content to be anonymous."

"Sweetie," Uhura said, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly, "It won't take long for everyone to work out who you are. Pike was our captain for a short while not too long ago. And he had photos of you pinned to his workspace."

"You're kidding right?" Frances squeaked. "Oh God, no wonder Daddy was so easy-going about this trip. I am so going to kill him when we get back."

"In a year and a half?" Chekov asked teasingly.

Frances smiled brilliantly, if a little menacingly. "He's my dad. I make it my life's work to never forgive and forget when it comes to things like this and him."

After a moment's longer fuming, Frances fell into easy conversation with Uhura and Chekov and knew that, if she played the right cards, she could count on them to be good friends. They both worked on the bridge, Chekov as a navigator and Uhura as the chief communications officer. Frances felt quite measly in comparison; as only apprentice to Dr McCoy.

"Bones and Captain Kirk are old friends, though, Cissa," Uhura assured. "I'm sure you'll end up spending just as much time up on the bridge as anyone."

"Thanks, Nyota, but it's not so much wanting to be on the bridge as it is being someone of importance. Through my own merit and not my dad's."

"It'll come. Just you see. I've heard about you and your talent as a doctor before, and that wasn't because of your father."

Frances grinned. "Well, what can I say? I have the magic touch!" she wiggled her fingers and did her best not to laugh.

They arrived shortly afterwards and Uhura and Chekov quickly apologised and disappeared off into the crowd, leaving Frances standing in the docking bay, not knowing where to go. After half an hour of trying to catch someone's attention and failing, she resolved to find her own way and do her very best not to get lost in the process. That decided, she began a long, complicated and she was sure, roundabout, route to the medical bay.

"Oh thank God," Frances exclaimed when she finally caught sight of Dr McCoy. And collapsed down onto one of the beds dramatically.

"What happened to you? I was expecting you almost an hour ago," he asked, too busy surveying the supplies to pay her much attention.

"Yeah, well, I arrived on board about an hour ago. But I don't know my way about and all the crew members are too busy racing about to even pause and point me in the right direction. Nyota and Pavel stormed off as soon as we arrived… I'm new! I don't know my way around."

McCoy chuckled, but did his best to appear stern. "That's not the right attitude to have-"

"Oh, can it." Frances hesitated, then added, "Sir," respectfully. "I just said goodbye to everyone I know for the next eighteen months, I'm in space for the first time and I just got stranded without the first clue of where to go."

Rolling his eyes and not falling for her dramatics, despite the proof she had provided, McCoy shouldered one of her bags and chucked the other one at her. "Well come on, then, I'll show you to your rooms. They're just round the corner from mine. Then you have five minutes to smarten yourself up before we head up to the bridge."

Frances nodded and said nothing more as she trailed behind the doctor. While it was true, all the excuses she gave, they were all just that; excuses. The removal to Medical School had been much more disturbing than this, but she had wanted, just for a moment, to act like a spoilt brat.

Keeping a close eye on where she was going, and grateful for the fact that her room wasn't far from the Medical bay, she thanked Dr McCoy and chucked her bags onto her bed. With a quick glance in the mirror to see that, yes, she looked alright and, no, there wasn't anything else to be done, she swiftly retraced her steps to find Dr McCoy.

"You know," he said, as they headed out towards the bridge. "Since we're going to be working together for so long, you can call me by my first name, if you wish."

Frances grinned. "Leonard? You don't happen to have a nickname, do you?"

"No," he lied.

"OK, well, you can call me by my first name too, I guess. Except, if you call me 'Frances' I will skin you alive. It's Cissa."

He grinned, and opened the door, allowing her through into the lift first. "James - Captain Kirk, that is - calls me Bones."

"But you'd skin me alive if I called you that?" Frances finished, winking at him. "I got it. It's OK, I can call you Leonard. You'll know when I'm pissed - angry or drunk - because I'll start calling you Lenny."

He laughed as the door opened, successfully diverting everyone's attention to their arrival. Chekov waved cheerily from his seat and Uhura winked.

"You found your way alright then?" she asked.

Frances snorted inelegantly. "Not exactly. I've spent the last hour trying to find the medical bay. Then, thankfully, I found the wonderful Dr McCoy and he pointed me in the right direction," she teased, putting an arm around McCoy and fluttering her eyelashes.

"Please get off me, Ms Pike," he pleaded.

"Pike? As in Admiral Pike's daughter?" the other navigation officer asked, spinning round.

"Oh, ouch," Frances cringed, backing off and poking McCoy in the ribs. "That was uncalled for."

"It was my honour," McCoy replied with a grin.

Then the door leading from the bridge out into the main corridor opened and Captain Kirk was standing there. Immediately, everyone returned to their tasks and pretended like they hadn't just been watching the unfolding drama.

"- and impulse engines at your command, sir," the as-yet unnamed navigator said.

"Weapon systems and shields on stand by," Chekov continued.

"Dock control reports ready, Captain," Uhura added, turning to face the newcomer.

Captain Kirk stood in the doorway, pausing, no doubt, for dramatic effect. As he turned his gaze to Frances, she realised with a jolt that she recognised him. Recognised him and resented him. Or, more accurately, resented what he had done, even if it had been an accident.

"Bones!" he greeted, slapping McCoy on the shoulder. "Introduce me to your lovely lady friend."

"Jimmy Speed, never thought I'd see you again," Frances said instead, in falsely sweet tones. "What, don't remember me?"

"'Jimmy Speed'? I haven't heard that name in a while - but you're… oh my God, you're Fran! You fixed my leg when I broke it coming off one of those dirt bikes badly," he grinned broadly and reached out to shake her hand, but she ignored it.

"Yeah, you prick. I fixed you up, and you had me sent to that hell-hole of a Medical School for the next six years of my life. _Real _grateful you were," she slapped his hand aside and stalked towards the lift, brushing past another stranger who'd just arrived as she did so.

Jim watched her go with an astonished expression on his face. "That is not true! All I did was tell everyone how amazing you were for fixing my leg like that!" But the lift doors had shut and she wasn't listening.

"That's the point she was making, idiot!" McCoy said, slapping Jim upside the head. "The Medical School hears you have any sort of skill, no matter your age, and they suck you in like a vacuum. She told me she was thirteen when she started, so she'd have been stuck in a class of about fifty students, all older than her, who all hated and resented her for getting in early and having to struggle with work she didn't understand because she hadn't been taught the fundamentals parts yet. And if you'd just kept your mouth shut, she'd have been fine."

"Ooh," Jim said, wincing. "Whoops."

"Idiot," McCoy shot back.

"Dare I ask?" Spock asked from where he still stood by the lift doors.

McCoy answered before Jim could, "Just our Captain making an ass of himself before the ladies - as usual."

"You mean Dr Pike? You should not make an enemy of her, she is a very talented doctor," Spock informed the others.

Jim let his head fall forward to bash sharply against the back of the chair he stood behind. "I know!" he moaned.

"You realise that means you can't pursue her as well, Jim?" McCoy asked. "Since you alienate everyone you flirt with."

"That's not true!" Jim immediately protested. "Lieutenant Uhura likes me. And I spent years flirting with her."

Spock frowned and glanced across at his girlfriend, who shrugged helplessly back at him.

"She only likes you because you treat her like another human being now that you know she's taken. Rather than a means to an end," McCoy scolded.

"You're mean. All of you," Jim protested. "Besides, Fran and I always got on. She was always up for an adventure."

McCoy rolled his eyes and turned his back on his friend, turning instead to slump at his desk and ignore his captain.

"Oh, get me out of here!" Jim groaned.

"Thrusters on stand by, sir."

"Take us out."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

--

It had taken a grand total of three days until the first crew member wound up in the Medical Bay. He'd been fixing one of the reverse engines when his safety harness and come loose and he'd fallen twenty feet and landed on his back. Whilst the fall wasn't large, and so the injuries were minor, it was the first official task Frances had received since coming aboard.

Within half an hour the patient was sitting up again, healthy as can be, and being told to avoid using the harnesses for a little while. McCoy appeared as he was leaving and Frances found herself having to explain why she hadn't called him immediately.

"All he did was bruise a couple of ribs! I gave him the lotion, told him to ensure a full safety check was carried out on the equipment and sent him on his way. Oh! And I gave him an anti-bjorn floo jab because he wasn't registered as having one yet and gave him a normal medical. He's under orders to return in two weeks for a check up and to return if he gets any back problems," she explained hastily.

"Cissa! You don't just care for someone without my help. I know you're fully capable, but you're my assistant," McCoy scolded.

Frances sighed and sank down in her chair. "We both know that I don't need to be anyone's assistant, Leonard. I could be on a Star Fleet Vessel in charge of my own Medical Bay if it weren't for the fact that I didn't know that until after my dad had secure me a position aboard and we were already out of the Space Shuttle Bus range."

McCoy leant across and grasped her hand. "Cissa, I know things have been hard for you. My advice is this; enjoy the time you have here. Get training from some of the officers in hand-to-hand combat, get them to take you to the shooting range, get Spock to show you the mechanical, tactical side of the control, hell even get Uhura to teach you one of the other languages. Just… enjoy yourself. You've been working your ass off for six years now; it's time for a break." He paused and winked. "I'll even let you handle some of the patients on your own if you introduce me to that hottie gardener friend of yours."

Frances laughed and then thanked him. "Hey, do you know where the Captain is at the moment?"

"He's off-shift, so probably in the gym or the mess hall. Why?"

"He definitely won't be on the bridge?"

"Definitely."

"Epic," Frances said with a grin. "I'm going to pay Nyota, Pavel and Spock a visit. Without his disruptive presence." She span up out of the chair and started towards the door.

"He is sorry about that, you know. Telling everyone. He was just proud of you and wanted everyone to feel that," McCoy called out as she left, feeling the need to put in a good word for his friend.

Frances paused a moment to say, "I'm sure he did. Unfortunately things didn't work out the way he planned, did they?" and then she left.

* * *

**2.**

The thing about joining the USS Enterprise shortly before it's first planned mission - and not the hooky couple of days one that had, admittedly, saved the Earth and millions of lives from destruction - was that everyone knew each other.

Not that that was a bad thing. In fact, considering the crew not only knew but - on the whole - liked one another it was generally a good thing. The first couple of weeks that a new crew generally spent getting used to working together had been fast tracked by the couple of days of life-threatening action that had been the Enterprise's maiden voyage. But for Dr Frances Pike it was a bad thing. A very bad thing. Especially considering the change of Captain.

Cissa was the only child and daughter of Admiral Pike. She'd been handpicked by the International Medical School at the tender age of thirteen to endure their early-starter course. She was one of four students who had successfully completed the five year course without a major break down and with her fair share of minor ones along the way. Considering the class had started off with over fifty students, that was pretty impressive. At eighteen she had gained a doctorate in all major species medical courses and was rewarded by being thrown into a further, minor species medical course that lasted three years without so much as a by your leave. Having learnt her lesson after the first transferral, Cissa made a break for it as soon as her final exam was finished.

Finally free of a very demanding education system that accepted nothing less than perfection, Cissa had taken the first Space Shuttle she could up to the Starfleet San Francisco Docking Bay to hide from the grasps of the Medical School and to get a better signal to talk to her father for a long bitch and moan. Admiral - then Captain - Pike had taken all of her whining in his stride. Her mother had died during child birth, and Pike had found himself the sole custodian of Cissa. Having not had sufficient political power to pull her from the Medical School, he had spent the last eight years of his life listening to her bitch about the unfairness of the whole system.

"But sweetpea, at least you got an impressive amount of credentials out of it, and you're still only twenty-one."

"Da-ad," she moaned. "That's not the point! I never even got a choice as to whether I was to be a Doctor or not. What if I wanted to be a mechanic, huh? I just wasted eight years of my life!"

Pike raised an eyebrow at his sullen daughter. "Do you want to be a mechanic?" he asked sceptically.

Cissa sighed. "I don't know," she told him finally. "My whole life I've been told 'you will be a doctor, you will be a doctor,' I've never had a chance to look at what other career options there are. I mean, sure I'm good at it, but I'm good at skiing as well, doesn't make me an Olympic champion."

"You're good at skiing, Franny, but your amazing at healing people," Pike informed softly. He sighed heavily and considered something for a moment before he said, "Tell you what, take a month to go to Canada or Austria or something to go skiing, and I'll com you when the Enterprise docks. I'll have you added to the crew list. We already have a hell of a good doctor and head nurse, but it's a five year mission so it'll get you beyond the Med School's grasp for that long at least. You can spend five years doing whatever hell you want, learning whatever the hell you want, and then when you get back, I fully expect for you to have this little crisis of faith sorted out."

"Five years, Dad? As in, the super-long mission you promised you wouldn't go on until I turned twenty?" Cissa asked, raising an eyebrow in a perfect imitation of her father's former expression.

"Yeah. Well, I figure, you could use a familiar face setting off on your first deep-space mission," Pike explained, grinning guiltily.

"You don't think I could survive five years without you?"

"More a case of, I don't want to survive five years without you."

Cissa gazed shrewdly at her father for a moment before a grin split her face. "God, you were always a sly buggar, weren't you, Dad?"

"Oi, watch your language," he scolded, grinning back.

"Ok, then, Captain, enlist me for your foolhardy mission. We'll see who ends up cracking from pressure first. After all, we haven't lived together since before I brought boyfriends home," she teased, then said her farewells and signed off. She had a skiing holiday to book for, after all.

When Cissa arrived back in San Francisco a month later, tanned and much healthier looking after her first outdoor activity for years, it was to find that, despite everything that had happened, she, at least, was still leaving on schedule, though her father was not. Which was what led to Cissa being aboard a space ship on which she knew nobody and everyone knew each other already.

"I am so getting you back for this, Dad," she complained as they said goodbye. "I'm spending the next five years not doing anything in particular, with people I don't know. Fun."

"Ah, cheer up. You'll get to know people soon enough. And I've told Kirk, Spock and the other Senior Officers to keep an eye out for you." Pike leant up in his armchair and she obediently leant down so he could kiss her on each cheek. "Now get going, sweetpea, before they leave without you. I love you."

"Love you too, Dad," she returned, and jumped aboard the Space Shuttle as the attendants drew the doors shut.

The journey from Earth up to the docking bay was thankfully relatively short, so Cissa did not have to search for fellow crew mates in her present company. Once aboard the docking bay, she located her luggage and made her way towards the Enterprise's foot entrance. Call her old fashioned, but whenever her father had taken her up to see the space craft, she had always insisted on walking on board. She thought there was something - disrespectful - about just landing aboard. And since this ship was to be her home for the next five years, it deserved a little respect. That and she didn't trust random strangers to get her luggage to the right sleeping quarters.

Thanks to her father's placement within the Federation, he'd managed to secure her a Senior Officer's three-piece suite. Which meant that instead of one room, she had a lounge, a bedroom and a comfortably sized bathroom. When she finally found her room, it made her shudder. It was like she was going to be staying in a hotel. Still, it was better than her previous accommodations by a long shot, especially considering she wasn't rooming with anyone.

Dumping her two stuffed-to-the-brim bags on the (double!) bed, Cissa ducked into the bathroom long enough to check her reflection before stepping out of her rooms and locking the door behind her. She felt the ship hum into life and braced herself for the first jolt of movement before starting up towards where she presumed the bridge would be. Her father had provided her with rudimentary directions but, knowing him, they were wrong and so she had mostly disregarded them.

It didn't take too long to find her way, as the crew she bumped into were friendly and eager to point her in the right direction. Finally, two floors up, many twists and turns later, Cissa found her way to the bridge to find, judging from their colours, the Captain and CMO bickering like teenage brothers.

"He said keep an eye out for her, but how can we do that if we haven't even seen her yet?" the assumed Captain complained.

The CMO didn't seem at all bothered by the Captain's attitude, as he retorted, " She's twenty-one, Jim, not eleven. She doesn't need a babysitter. I'm sure she'll make her way here in fair time."

"That's Captain, to you Bones-" Ah, so she was right, the first speaker was the Captain. And judging from the other man's nickname, he was a doctor. "-and it was a direct order from Pike to look out for her, I can't go against orders."

The navigator and helmsman both snorted indiscreetly and bowed their heads further over their desks in a vain attempt to hide their amusement.

"Considering the number of rules you broke and still managed to land a commendation and Captaincy of the Enterprise, I'm guessing you hope she's hot and you can get into her knickers," 'Bones' sniped back.

"And with that illuminating piece of knowledge, I'll make my presence known, shall I?" Cissa finally broke in, as the Captain's face turned an interesting shade of pink. "I'm Dr Frances Pike. Most people call me Cissa."

The Captain grinned broadly; a school boy grin that was lecherous as it was disarmingly cute. "Is that an invitation, Cissa?" he purred.

Cissa eyed the Captain narrowly and tilted her head. "I said most people. You can call me Dr Pike."

"Aw, now, don't be like that. We already have one grumpy doctor aboard. We don't need two," Again, he sprung upon her that smile. He moved closer to her, and Cissa fought the grin that threatened to arise in response to his. "I'm Captain James Kirk," he paused and winked. "But you can call me Jim."

Cissa bit her lip as the grin was let loose. In comparison to the last suitor she'd had, he didn't even come close in style, though he beat Dean hands down in the looks department. "So 'Bones' was right when he said you just wanted to get into my pants."

"Forgive me, Madame," he said, bowing low over her hand and kissing the back of it. "Allow me to introduce you to your fellow crew members. Pavel Chekov, Hikaru Sulu, Nyota Uhura, Dr Leonard McCoy - aka Bones - and Mr Spock. And the friendly Scott who beamed you up is, ironically, Montgomery Scott. We just call him Scotty."

"I walked on board, Captain, I haven't met Scotty. But thank you kindly for introducing me anyway. Perhaps the good Doctor might show me the way to the Medical Bay?" Cissa then turned her full attention to McCoy and promptly ignored Jim completely.

"Certainly. Any excuse to escape our delirious captain's presence," McCoy replied and stepped back to allow Cissa past and out the door.

"It was a pleasure to meet you all," she called to the others, winked at Jim, and the door shut.

Uhura span in her chair to face her desk again. "I like her," she said.

"Mmm, me too," Jim replied with a mischievous smile.

--

Cissa found that, despite her initial fears, she got on well with the strange combination of people that were the senior officers. Leonard - or Len, as she soon called him - was a brilliant physician with an undeniably humorous sarcastic nature. Whilst initially wary, and always grumpy and recalcitrant, his dedication and medical history put him high on her list of people who deserved respect. In fact, most of the crew did. With the exception of Sulu, they were all very talented in their individual fields of expertise. Sulu, although not smart in the same way, was an excellent pilot and gunfighter with a sassy sense of humour.

Jim, on the other hand… he was different from the rest of them, and it hadn't taken long for Cissa to understand why he, out of all of them, was Captain. He was disarmingly charming, and seemed to be created from pure energy, like he was always on the verge of breaking into action. Despite his tomfoolery and school-boy like presence, Jim was also incredibly, incredibly smart. He had some no inconsiderable knowledge in many fields of learning, with the exception of medics and linguistics - which was why he had Len and Nyota on board, Cissa supposed.

He was also a relentless flirt, though everyone knew not to take him seriously. Pike had informed his protégé that on board fraternisations were limited to the bare minimum for functionalities sake - as in, no one wanted to have to work for or with a one night stand. And that was one rule Jim had taken to heart. He wanted his crew to love him and work well for him - not make love to and then resent him. Not that that stopped him from flirting. He flirted with everyone, with exception only being Spock and Len - for different reasons. Len, Cissa soon learnt, was Jim's best friend. As in brother-from-another-mother type friends. And Spock was… well, Spock. The only one who ever successfully flirted with him was Nyota.

Unfortunately - or fortunately in some points of view - she was his favourite. Which meant that as soon as she got used to his insistent, unstopping parade of bad pick up lines and come ons, and didn't take anything he said to heart, they got on just fine. In fact, it was something of a relief to find a guy who she could flirt with and who didn't take any of what she said as an invitation to bed, despite what he said to the contrary. Jim unnerved many of the staff with his flirtatious attitude, but Cissa soon decided she liked it. And him. Which was how she ended up often spending Saturday nights getting pissed out of her mind with Len and Jim in the Captain's quarters.

"What do you do, anyway?" Jim slurred at her one such evening. "You just seem to… sit around… look pretty… and stuff."

Cissa hit him lightly on the head. She didn't really have a reason why, it just seemed like a good idea at the time. It made the usually stoic Len chuckle, though, so it had to be a good thing. "I'm an extra," she said, sotto voce, as though revealing a huge secret. "I dunno what I wanna do. Whole life, boxed up in the stupid Med School, they don't care if I don't wanna do med'sun."

"You don't?" Len blurted around hiccup.

"Dunno. That's the point. Five years doing shit all, Dad reckons I'll have sorted out my crisis by the end of it."

There was a moment of heavy drunken consideration, where each of them said nothing and all took another sip of their chosen poison.

"Wish I did shit all," Jim finally said.

"No you don't," Len decreed. "You'd go bat shit crazy, and then drive me bat shit crazy, and then everyone else 'til we're all… Jim-mad." he waited a moment, mouth slightly open, primed to say something more. A puzzled expression crossed his face, and then he reached for the bottle to poor himself another shot.

"Cissa-assa-sas is already Jim-mad," Jim said with a proud grin. "She flirts with me."

"Cos your pretty and blond and don't mean it," Cissa explained seriously. "And Dean wasn't as pretty, and red and didn't mean it either, but I didn't know that."

"Who's Dean?" Jim asked, scowl already firmly in place.

"Just this guy. He's a bastard and a prick and I fell in love with him and he up and told me that he was getting married. To his other girlfriend. The arse hole."

"I'll beat him up for you," Len offered, which any other situation would be laughable because, while an excellent doctor who looked as though he could beat the shit out of you, Len couldn't win a fight with a teddy bear. But, since they were all drunk it made perfect sense to them all.

Jim nodded along enthusiastically. "Then we'll tell his girlfriend and she can beat the shit out of him."

"I did," Cissa answered, a momentary bout of soberness stealing through her so that a devious grin could steal across her face. Then the cloud of alcohol descended once more and conversation ambled along in the same, disjointed fashion as before.

Eventually, they decided it was past time to go to bed. Len was the first to disappear, since his room was right across the hall. Cissa, not wanting to wake up passed out in the corridor, asked if she might borrow the sofa. Somehow she and Jim both ended up sprawled across his bed, using one another as a human pillow.

When she woke, the last Cissa could remember was that brief moment of sobriety. So waking up to find some unknown person's morning erection pressed into her thigh came as a little bit of a shock. And, despite what Jim would claim later, she did not scream, she did not jump from the bed, and she did not then clutch her forehead, let out a long moan and make her way as fast as possible to pay homage to the porcelain gods. Not that toilets on the Enterprise were still made from porcelain, but that was besides the point.

The rest of the week had been a bit awkward between Cissa and Jim, their cheerful flirtiness non-existent and carefully avoiding one another's gaze, until Spock had lost patience and asked them to get over whatever weird thing had happened to them and get back to normal please before he transported the both of them to the Med Bay. And thus, Jim had asked Cissa out properly and they had started dating properly. It was only two months later when the security team were watching back old footage to clear the tapes that it came to light that they hadn't actually had sex that night. Cissa had stripped and borrowed one of Jim's t-shirts, but only because she had nothing else to wear to bed as she refused to sleep in her normal clothes.

Len had found the whole situation hilariously funny. So did Cissa, when the truth came out - not that she'd ever say that. After all, Jim was pissed off about the whole thing and he was hot and handsome and, most importantly, hers, so she wasn't about to enlighten him about her true feelings for the matter. But in the end it turned out that having the tape of that evening revealed was a good thing. Firstly because it was funny to watch Jim yell at the security team for putting a camera in his 'goddamn fucking private rooms!' and also because suddenly, for some unknown psychological reason, Jim became a little more amorous.

As in, the hands that had, until then, stayed pretty much always on top of her clothing, finally migrated underneath it, too. Which had led to hot sex in just about every room that they were in and other people weren't - and that was never a bad thing.

The other females aboard thought she was crazy for getting involved with such a womaniser, and surprisingly the only other female on her side was Nyota. Although, when asked, it became pretty clear that Nyota knew Jim far better than most people realised and she knew that Jim was loyal to a fault - just because until then he hadn't gone steady with one woman didn't mean he wasn't to them as well. Jim had just needed someone up for a bit of an adventure - both in the traditional sense, and in the bedroom sense. Cissa hadn't known an awful lot about adventurous sex before hand, if she was honest, but Jim was a good teacher.

* * *

1. Written: 3rd January 2010  
2. Written: 4th January 2010  
Chances of continuation: nil

Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.

Much love,  
Cal


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